by Stuart Singer, The Teacher Leader

It all started so beautifully.  At precisely 7:30 p.m. the processional began with the chords of “Pomp and Circumstance” pouring out of the PA system surrounding the football field.  The class of 1988 led by a full slate of dignitaries moved around the track in perfect time with the music.  It was a magnificent night with a glorious sunset soon to commence as a soft, warm breeze cooled the hundreds of spectators in the stands. 

After the commencement speech was completed and the graduates were about to be introduced the unraveling began.  Due to a lack of security in front of the stadium bleachers a few individuals had come onto the field to take pictures of relatives crossing the stage.  Not surprisingly this trickle of photographers soon turned into a jailbreak.  Spectators began pouring onto the field.  Worse, after taking their pictures they realized they had the best seats in the house and choose to sit on blankets while casually eating and chatting.  The first Frisbee was spotted as students with names starting with “G” were being called.  By the time the roll reached “M” the event looked more like a huge picnic than a graduation ceremony.  Soon the ugliness began to increase exponentially.  The crowd began to expand so close to the actual ceremonies that the teachers had to form a human barricade to impede their movement.  Notes passed to the administrators on the stage were to no avail as verbal altercations between the two groups began to escalate.

Finally after a faculty member called the principal out of his seat and warned him of the danger, an announcement was made to instruct the crowd to move back.  While few heeded the directive to return to the stands, the crowd’s forward movement stopped.  Mercifully the final senior diploma was awarded, caps were thrown into the air and the crisis was over.  But bruised feelings were still abundant as faculty members and families fumed over the chaos that never should have occurred. 

After the ceremony was complete I was able to relax for the first time in over an hour.  But while the nightmare was over, I could not shake the feeling that I had just witnessed the worst graduation ceremony in history.  While that was perhaps a bit of hyperbole, as I walked across the football field, a laundry list of complaints to be presented to the principal was being formulated in my mind.  I was interrupted in my journey by a member of Congress whose son was in the graduating class.  We exchanged pleasantries while ignoring the events of the previous hour.  Suddenly the unfathomable happened.  Because it began so slowly and unexpectedly at first it was unclear exactly what was occurring. I felt a few drops of moisture on my face and instinctively looked up at the cloudless sky.  But the intensity of the precipitation increased.  The unfathomable was now the reality.  It was 9:30 p.m. and the athletic director had neglected to turn off the automatic timer for the field’s watering system.  Within a few minutes as if on cue from some diabolical director, the thousand people on the field were immersed in a watery “up pour”.  I glanced at the Representative, a future candidate for President and still wearing her gown as a part of the stage dignities, and saw that she along with everyone else had been quickly drenched. 

Officially and without fear of hyperbole, it was now the worst graduation ceremony ever.

Posted by Mel Riddile at 05:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

by Stuart Singer, The Teacher Leader

It was the Principal’s first year and he was determined to change the school culture.  One area of concern was the ordering of supplies.  In the past each teacher was given a specific amount they could spend and the new school leader was convinced such an approach encouraged many people to buy unneeded supplies in order to reach the arbitrary limit.  At his fourth department chair meeting near the end of the first semester he introduced the new plan.

“I really believe that we can use our allotted funds more efficiently by simply not setting any limit and giving people the freedom to buy what they need.”  His comments brought a surprised and somewhat skeptical buzz from the fifteen or so people seated around the table.  “Just tell your people to feel free to order what they need.”

“No limit?”  An incredulous voice came from his left.

“No limit,” he replied.  “Just tell them to be sure that they need whatever it is they are buying.  I have seen this work before.  When given that kind of freedom, people really try to do the right thing.”  He paused for a moment.  “But in order for this plan to succeed you need to make sure they understand what the school is responsible for providing and what it is not.  The finance officer has told me about a few people who furnish their classrooms with these funds.  That is not their intended purpose.  And even worse she just gave me a purchase order for eggs and pancake syrup.”  He shook his head.  “Now that is an example of what is really not appropriate.”  The majority of the audience nodded in agreement.

After the meeting concluded, the chairman of the science department approached the principal.  “I think I need to explain something to you.”  She was a recent addition to the chairman ranks and spoke softly.   “I need to tell you that I was the one who ordered the eggs and pancake syrup.”  Her statement elicited a quizzical look.  “But no one is going to eat them.  I order them every year for all of the biology classes.  They are part of our lab on osmosis and diffusion.”  The principal smiled as she continued. “We dissolve the calcium carbonate shells with vinegar and then we use syrup to demonstrate…” 

His raised hand stopped her in mid-sentence. “I have to say, I learn something new every day.”  The order for eggs and syrup was soon signed and within a few days delivered.  Hundreds of Biology 1 students watched eggs lose their shells.  More importantly, the new supply plan was a huge success.

Posted by Mel Riddile at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

by Stuart Singer, The Teacher Leader

I said what?

The ultimate Principal nightmare—the public address misstatement.  In my forty years as a teacher I heard more than a few regrettable moments.  Names were mispronounced, incorrect dates were given, conversations were overheard, etc.  But there was one proclamation uttered more than twenty-five years ago that stands alone in the pantheon of unfortunate announcements.

The school’s soccer team had been having a stellar season.  The district championship had been won and the regional finals were on the horizon.  But the team member’s enthusiasm, which was spilling over into the hallways between classes, was becoming a disruption.  Mini soccer games were breaking out with balls being kicked from player to player with an occasional mock goal thrown in for good measure.  Complaints began to mount and the principal decided it was necessary for her to step into the fray.

A minute after the tardy bell had rung, the PA was turned on and she began to speak.

“We have a situation in our hallways that needs to be addressed.  We are having a great soccer season and I am very proud of all the wonderful accomplishments of the team.  But regardless of our success on the field we are having a problem that must be discontinued.  I am confident I will only have to say this once.  However if necessary we will enforce strict punishments.”  For emphasis she paused a moment.  “From now on during the change of classes, all boys must stop playing with their soccer balls in the halls.”  

Technically, that was exactly what she wanted to say.  It was precisely what she meant to say.  But her potential nightmare had become a reality.  In her closing sentence she had accidentally omitted one six-letter word—“soccer”.  Ouch!

Do you have a “favorite” PA misadventure?

Posted by Mel Riddile at 02:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The sister of a friend was just appointed the principal of a k-12 school. While visiting a second grade classroom, one of the students asked her, “Are you going to do what Mr. Smith (former principal) did?” She replied, “Yes. I am going to be in his office, sit in his chair, and I am going to do run the school like he did.” With a big grin on her face the little girl replied, “Girl power!”

Posted by Mel Riddile at 02:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)